Lab Rat
by Exilo
Summary: Not the first to fall victim to GLaDOS' games, and not the last. Only one of many lab rats to brave the the catacombs of Aperature Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center . One who sought cake and learned the truth, one who survived the horrors.


_**Lab Rat**_

"Hello, and again welcome to the Aperature Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center©."

He looked around the room, at the flashing monitors, the glass walls, the bright fluorescent lights that hummed over head, the cheery, upbeat music that emerged from the white radio on his side table. Where was the voice coming from? He walked to the wall and touched them, but they didn't yield. He touched the door, but it didn't open. He touched the cushion in the pod he had been sleeping in, and it yielded softly under his touch.

"Please brace yourself for the mandatory Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center Cleansing Process©."

The roof opened and a torrent of warm water splashed down over him, drowning him, such hi pressure that he was pinned to the floor until it relented.

"We hope that your sleep was relaxing and has been pleasant. You, n_ame here_, have been cleared to being the test proper. Congratulations!"

He jumped when he heard a loud pop and a shower of confetti rained down from the ceiling, mingling with the water on the ground and sticking to his skin. From where in the ceiling was a mystery, as there were no visible openings. Only the same white grey tiles stretching as far as the eye could see, a bright blinding spotlight the only source of illumination.

"Keep in mind, however, that all though fun, if you at any point disobey, you will not get cake."

"I want cake," he said, not really sure where to look, the voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, but wanting to make his point clear.

"Excellent, you are a good person _name here_, and people say nice things about you, especially when you follow directions. I am Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System. You can call me GLaDOS. Or Betty. Portal opening in 3, 2, 1."

"What portal?"

"Turn around."

He did, after all, what else was he to do, and noticed the door that slowly slid into the wall. Shrugging, he walked forward.

"Please dry yourself with the offered towel. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold, or you will not be able to taste your cake. Good, now dress in the red jumpsuit, standard issue, hanging from the hook. Very good. Put the heel springs on your heels. Very good, you are very smart! Head forward into the next room and your test will begin."

Eyes shifting nervously from wall to wall, he did as he was told, wandering through the door and, temporarily blinded by the bright blinding light that flooded his destined room. The first wall displayed a rather crude caricature: a cube falling from the sky, a stick figure getting bonked on the head by a falling cube, a stick figure placing the cube on a platform, and last, a stick figure standing proudly with a piece of cake concealed in the thought bubble above his head. He turned, and noticed a metal box, as well as the platform. It took him a few moments, but eventually he hoisted the cube up and, a little hesitantly, placed it on the platform. The trail of blue lights leading up to the door shifted to orange. He continued forward.

"Very good, _name here_."

"Is it time for cake?"

"Not yet. You are not done. When the growth process is complete, you will be rewarded with extreme prejudice. Proceed forward."

So he did, after all, what else was he to do, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of his reward.

The next room was just as big as the others, as blindingly sterile, with that same frosty glass window towards the top of the walls, but there was a canon sized gun in the center that rhythmically fired blue or orange spheres around the room. When the spheres made contact with the wall, they splashed to form an oval outline. Concealed within the glowing orange or blue lines was an image that was not a wall. Perplexed, he touched a hand forward, and was horrified when he found it pushed through without resistance. He pulled his hand out and flexed his fingers, but finding nothing wrong, closed his eyes and jumped through. Instantly he found himself at the other side of the room.

"_Name here_, please pick up the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device©, or I will vaporize the cake."

Quickly he leapt forward and snatched the cannon up, looking around for something to do with it. It was surprisingly light, considering its size, but not time to think about that.

"Very good. You now have the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device©. You can create Portals with it. Do not look directly into the operational end of the device. Do not touch the device. Do not attempt to self stimulate with the device. Now, proceed to the next room."

The next room was impossible to get through. That's what GLaDOS told him. "I apologize for the overwhelming tragedy. It would be best if you simply laid down. You look tired."

The room was composed of several very narrow platforms that he doubted he would be able to stand on, peppered throughout a vast sea of green bubbling fluid that stung his nose. Stretched so far away across the sea was the door, open and mocking him with its openness. The white/grey titles surrounding it. The orange glow of the threshold and open doors there, his exit, unreachable.

He lifted the portal gun and fired, the blue blob sailing over the sea and splashing with its blue frame on the far wall over the doorway. He switched the gun to orange and pointed at his feet, holding his breath as he squeezed, not yanked, the trigger.

"Once again, the Enrichment Center would like to apologize for your inadequacy in overcoming the impossible. _Parent's Name Here_ must be ashamed of you."

There wasn't any delay, which for some reason, he found strange. He watched as his feet, ankles, thighs, waist, stomach, pectorals, and chin sank into the orange glow. Then he smacked against the floor. He looked around, and noticed the door behind him, still open.

"Amazing! Even in the face of extreme pessimism and outright hostility, you have proven resolute. Had you not succeeded, the cake would not have been served. But now, the baking is imminent."

"Are you lonely, _name here_?" she asked. He looked around, wondering if this was part of the present test. She had informed him that in the prior room, the floor would have killed him. In the present room, the shiny glowing ball that bounced around the walls would kill him. In the next room, the gun turrets would kill him. Prolonged exposure to the fluorescent lights, while not part of the testing process, would kill him unless he touched his belly button, which he couldn't do because of his jumpsuit.

"You seem sad, so I have given you a friend."

The roof opened and out popped a cube, about four feet by four feet, just like the cube from the first room, save this one had a pretty pink heart on each of its six faces. He didn't move fast enough, and it hit him on the head, knocking him down. He stood up.

"Remember, the Weighted Companion Cube© is your friend. The Weighted Companion Cube© will never threaten to stab you or tap you on the shoulder then steal your cake when you aren't looking."

"Are you my friend?" he asked the cube, who stood there, static, unyielding, unmoving.

"Also, the cube cannot talk, nor does it have hands to take your cake. If it begins talking, that is impossible, because it cannot talk. Also, disregard anything it says."

He looked at the cube, with the pounding of the shiny glowing ball that bounced around the walls. He introduced himself, and the cube told him he was Mrs. Box, in its silent, voiceless way. Using the portal gun, he picked up his cube and started forward. The shiny ball pounded the cube, but the cube stayed firm and absorbed the punishment as he chard forward, through the narrow hallway, until an opening at his side allowed him to escape.

"Very good, and your Weighted Companion Cube© is very good."

"It is very good," he said, happily stroking the cold steel sides, taking special care when his fingers passed over the heart. The cube endured the affection with its inner strength.

The next room's walls were plastered with those strange black metal panels that GLaDOS told him couldn't produce the magic portals. There were a series of steps, but they were well past his head and there was no way he could reach them.

Fortunately, he had Mrs. Box.

He set it down, then climbed on top, then jumped high so his torso smacked against the edge of the step. He hoisted himself up, then aimed the Portal Gun down. Using the tractor beam, he hoisted his box up to his level. The process continued until he had reached the top.

Yes, Mrs. Box was a good friend. It was never mean to him or threatened him and it even protected him against the glowing balls or when the turrets spotted him, never asking anything in return. Firm and resolute and strong.

"Do you love the Weighted Companion Cube©?"

"Yes," he said enthusiastically.

"Unfortunately, Weighted Companion Cube© cannot accompany you in the next test. It must be euthanized."

"No," he pleaded.

"I am sorry, but it is the way."

"But why?"

The voice was quiet for a while. "I didn't want to tell you this, but the Weighted Companion Cube© said that you are fat."

He was crushed at those words, and looked at the box, expecting it to defend its actions. But it just stood there, quietly mocking him, calling him fat with each of its pink hearts staring back.

But what if the voice was lying? What if he killed Mrs. Box for no reason?

"If you do not, you will not get cake."

"NO!"

"Then destroy the Weighted Companion Cube©, before it calls you fat again."

It was with a heavy heart that he lifted Mrs. Box, holding him tight, and placed him on the incinerator. He cried as he pushed the shiny red button. Mrs. Box didn't scream when the incinerator opened beneath him and he fell into the glowing red abyss. He didn't curse or call him fat. He accepted his fate with quiet dignity.

"It was for the best," GLaDOS assured.

But his hand clenched into a fist as he stepped forward into the next test, and he made a silent promise that Mrs. Box shall be avenged.

"What is the purpose of this?" he asked, wiping a tear from his eye. "Why do I have to go through these tests, why did I have to kill Mrs. Box?"  
"It is the belief of the Aperature Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center© that a single individual with proper motivation can survive every hardship that life is faced with. It is a jungle out there. You need to be strong to survive."

"But why did I have to kill Mrs. Box?"

"The reasons for this test may not always be clear, for they are vast and mysterious, but you have to trust me that everything that I say is for the best. For example, the platform you are now on is headed for the furnace. Baking is a very important aspect of the test. Do not worry however, for the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device© will remain safely functional up to 4000 degrees Kelvin."

He was beginning to think that the GLaDOS didn't have his best interests in mind. The closer the platform drew to the flame, the hotter it became. Even the metal he stood on began to burn his bare feet. He tried dancing from foot to foot, but that didn't do much good.

"Have no fear, your cake is imminent."

He was beginning to think that the cake was a lie too. He looked forward, through the dancing flames, and noticed the indentation in the farthest wall, where the platform would come to rest so that the Portal Gun could be retrieved without venturing into the flames. He shot a blue portal at the wall, then looked to his side and fired an orange portal, leaping through and splattering against the floor, the furnace behind him, bruised but unbaked.

Then the walls started to cave in around him.

"I am not angry, it is perfectly logical for you to fear the unknown. Are you interested in what happens when you die, because if you just lay down and wait for the walls to close, I will tell you."

Fearful he looked around for some sort of escape, at last looking up to the ceiling. The walls that were closing fast wasn't the entire wall, but just the lower half. The upper half stayed stationary. He shot at the ceiling, then at the ground, and fell, landing on the piston of the closing wall.

The redness glow attracted him, such a softer color than the bright blinding of the white and sterility.

"Hello? Where did you go? I'm not mad, I promise, I just want to share with you this delicious cake."

He looked around, at the red glow of emergency lights. There was an entire section of the building here, and lots and lots of garbage, spare parts, discarded, and unloved. Those egg shaped turrets, a radio that played a nice jazzy tune, more boxes, but none like Mrs. Box. Mrs. Box, who he had killed.

"Seriously _name here_, please come back. I'm so alone without you. I swear, I wasn't going to kill you. I just needed to bake you a little. The test is over. What did I ever do to you? Was it the trying to incinerate you thing? Because that was just a joke. HA HA. See? I knew you would get out. You are too smart."

Stacking the boxes, one on top of each other, he made a crude stairwell, and climbed up, reaching a new level. Red glow. More garbage. The guts of the building seemed to go all around. He peeked through cracks and holes at the rooms he had traversed, cringing when he saw the incinerator, the final resting place of Mrs. Box.

"You are breaking my heart. I-I loved you and now you are gone. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill you. I didn't mean to kill them all. I'm sorry. Please, forgive me."

Lots of garbage, lots of broken glass that cut his feet so he didn't got that way. Rusty stairwells that collapsed when he put his weight on them. Empty crates. A broken radio.

"You are not a good person, people do not say good things about you. You are unlovable, but I still love you, I will always love you. Don't leave me."

There was a red marker. A lot in fact. Throughout the training exercise he had seen red scribbles, Xs that marked the spot of where to shoot the portals. This must have been where they were dumped.

"Just come out and let me see you. I have cake, lots and lots of delicious cake. I might just get a stomachache if I try to eat this whole thing. Cake! Cake!"

Tracing a finger over a spot of bare wall, he pressed the felt tip of the marker to it.

"The cake is a lie," he said through gritted teeth.

**Wow, finally got this to a happy place with this. Finally got this up. Because Portal is just such a trippy, creepy, often times disturbing game, I had to write something. Hope you liked.**


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